The old man and the woods (12/27/2018)

It was early in the morning, the old man and his dog decided to go out for a walk in the forest that was located behind his home. The air was crisp this particular morning in December. The soil was moist. Actually, it was very wet. It had been a very wet year, and all the rains this autumn had not helped. Sections of the trails were flooded and when you got off the trails, you could never see what was hiding under the dense layer of fallen leaves and pine needles. Not that this is all bad, this part of the world is known for its “bottom land forest” and these woods are definitely part of that ecosystem. The old man’s home should have never been built where it was, in a wetland ecosystem, but it was built before there were any laws that prevented or at least regulated that.

Jake the dog was easily bored and when he noticed that the old man took his regular trail, the old man’s canine companion hesitated. Like some other times he just stood there in protest ready to turn around and go home. While it is a requirement in these woods to leash dogs, the old man hardly ever leashes his. Jake does not stray far from his side, and the only real mischief he gets into is eating deer pellets or what the old man coins “doggie probiotics.” So, there is no way for the old man to force the dog to join him.

There are; however, two remedies to entice Jake in joining the old man on his walk in the woods. That is bribing the dog with cookies or going off the trail and bush whacking. So, off the trail it was this time. However, the return trip always involves the trail anyway. While simply walking down the trail is often meditative, having done it so many times, bush whacking is always fun. There may be a rotten out stump hidden under the leaves and then all the sudden he would sink ankle or even sometimes shin deep into the ground. Having the groundwater only an inch or two under the surface would mean shoes full of muddy water. In addition, the woods are littered with fallen trees and branches. Sections of the woods have a dense stand of low bush blueberry, the only plant that the deer in these woods do not seem to browse. While this does not slow down the old man, Jake has trouble with the blueberry plants the branches are touch and they hit him in the snout and eyes, and the old man tries to avoid the densest stands as much as possible. However, the lowbush blueberries grow in the driest parts of the woods, which is nice on these wet days. 

Nature is still very active in the woods observes the old guy. While most of the deciduous trees appear dormant, the pines may still have some activity during the warmest parts of the day. A close observation of one of his favorite beech trees in the woods the old man stood still to examine the bark. There he observed insects that where hiding in the crevasses of the bark. At first look they appeared to be dormant lightning bugs that had bedded down for the winter. Birds abound in these woods and little warblers appear to have an eyesight in a wavelength that allows them to pick out bugs like this from the crevasses in the bark from quite a distance away. Obviously, the birds had not discovered these guys yet. Maybe they’ll survive till spring.

A little further in the woods, the man discovered group of yellow coral mushrooms poking out through the leaf litter. A wet log was covered by tiny small paper-thin mushrooms and a little further down the trail he discovered a tree trunk that had the white hairy mass hanging from it. Hen-in-the-woods, an edible mushroom; but let it be. 

Coral Mushroom sticking its head out from in between the leaf litter.

These little (papery-thin) guys were growing on a rotting log

These hen-in-the-woods were growing on a dead trunk of a maple tree.
The trunk closest the camera was still alive.

It was an exhilarating morning, walking off the trail, just anywhere where there was no standing water. But now it was time to find the regular trail and return. For the man it was time to hit a familiar path and enter a somewhat meditative state and for Jake to linger behind once he noticed this was the road back home which was worse than taking a familiar path. It was a time to absorb what he had seen and experienced that morning, to be in the moment, and not to have his thoughts clouded by what was going on it the world around him. Clouded by the pressure that these types of lands will be under in other states thanks to the policy of this insane government of ours.  Or clouded by the thread of having to postpone retirement and an even  longer working career because of a bizarre stock market.

Thanks heaven these thoughts were interrupted by some other shit, or better by what appeared to be coyote scat (or shit) on the trail. It could be fox scat as well, but it was the size of what a dog would deposit.  The poop were full of hair; whatever deposited the turds there must have swallowed the poor animal skin and all. The last interesting find in these woods before returning home after a satisfactory walk.

Still not sure who laid that heap of scat.  It appeared to consist of mostly hair, so it was a predator (a fox or a coyote?). 

Nothing better for Jake than to explore one of the ephemeral ponds out in the woods.  While Jake is not a hunter he enjoys the shallow ponds and just drink some of the water and smell the banks.  He does not like to go too deep.  Being a male dog, his wee-wee is his depth gauge.

Is age really just a number? (12/13/2018)

I have been feeling my mortality lately. Not that I am sick or have been diagnosed with anything, but just because I am getting older. But then aren’t we all getting older? Every day we are getting a day older; a day closer to death. The newspaper obituaries are replete with folks younger than me. I brush them aside as accidents, suicides and unhealthy people. Having turned the magical six five or better 65 earlier this year, it feels different. We really downplayed the event, no big parties; my wife or family did not even throw me a surprise birthday party. The day passed like any other day; I even went to work on my birthday. However, eventually, the Friday evening after my birthday, my father-in-law treated me to a fancy dinner to our favorite restaurant where we had a great dinner for three. The day after my birthday I was 65 and 1 day; I did not even have a hangover. One of the problems always is that my birthday falls on or around Father’s Day weekend. It is more a family weekend, not conducive to big parties, I guess.

Oh well, enough belly aching. Why now? Coming out of a day-long workshop I gave this week I had a car crash. Yes, it was my fault; I pulled away from a stop sign (after a full stop), obviously did not see the car coming from the left (there was a snow bank that was obscuring my view and the lady that hit me was obviously speeding); however, I do not think that ten years ago when I started this gig I was this exhausted after a full day of teaching. I solo teach, and standing on my legs for six hours, being on all the time, thinking, talking and answering questions is a lot of work. It takes a lot out of me. I have noticed that I am more tired the older I get and that my recovery time is getting longer. I am often still tired the day after teaching a full day or often two days in a row. Also knowing that my parents did not make it much past their mid 70-s, makes you wonder if your days are numbered and what the hell you are doing still working and putting yourself out there on the road, after a full day of teaching, increasingly in danger of getting hurt in an accident.

A google search tells me the following about the age at which we humans peak at certain things:

• The ability to learn a second language: 7 to 8 
• Sexually: Men 17, Women 35 
• Brain processing: 18 
• Remembering names: 22 
• Life satisfaction: 23 and again at 69 
• Strength: 25 
• Metabolism and heart rate: Early adulthood 
• Fastest marathon: 28 
• Bone and bone structure: 30 to 35 
• Remembering faces: 32 
• Focus: 43 
• Arithmetic skills: 50 
• Understanding people’s emotions: 51 
• Vocabulary skills: 71 
• Happiness with your body: 74 
• Psychological wellbeing: 82 

Looking at the list, my ability to focus has been going down since I was 43; and let’s not talk about my sex life (peaked at 17? I wish I realized that back then and capitalized on it). Moreover, based on my genetics, I may never reach nirvana or psychological wellbeing. Although, maybe finally I’ll be happy with my body before I die. So be it! But age is only a number, and as you see, these are only numbers. 

This is what makes me happy: Forest bathing.  Being out in the woods, exploring, visiting some of my favorite trees.  This is where I find solace with life, with my age and the world.

My mortality was brought even more to the foreground by the accident. It all happened in a flash, I never saw the car coming, I did not even saw it when it hit me, maybe just a flash. Yes, she obviously drove very fast. But still, I get the blame and I will keep wondering if my age contributed to it; am I loosing my ability to focus? Maybe. The statistics tell me I am, but then I learned you can also lie with statistics (what was that about something peaking at 17?). 

I often wish there was a way to slow down the aging process. There are so many things I want to experience, explore and to see or do in this world. Many have tried to slow aging down, no one has succeeded. This blog post has no solutions, I am sorry. Accept aging gracefully? I’ve always thought: “Hell no!” Some folks say calorie deprivation will allow you to live to the biological predestined age of humans which is around 120. They even claim that living this way of eating very few calories and starving yourself can be fun and enjoyable. I am not sure what planet they come from, but torture is not my way of having fun. Others say slightly overweight is good. Now I like that!

On the other hand, the problem is that my skeleton is slowly starting to refuse to cooperate; my knees hurt, my back is stiff, I get tired quicker and my recovery time is longer. They call it the regular wear and tear on the body. I feel like I am becoming that middle-aged lump of coal on the couch. This is also torture and I know that my weight and lack of exercise will only make this worse in the long run. Folks around me have (early) Alzheimer or other forms of dementia. They are older than me, but I realize I have less of a focus, sometimes more difficulty remembering names. That makes me wonder and it bothers me too. 

I use this picture in my classes as an example that old guys can be strong, or old ideas can still be valid.

Sorry for bitching about my age young readers of mine. Hopefully you too will hit it one of these days. It will creep up and all the sudden it will hit you right smack in the face, as with me. You are getting old! Then you will try the excuse “age is just a number” while your colleagues at work announce: “you are older than my father” (or my mother/parents)!